


Just a Kid

by Help__Obsessed_Artist



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Abduction, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bat Brothers, Big Brother Dick Grayson, Big Brother Jason Todd, Damian Wayne Feels, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Fear, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Other, Protective Dick Grayson, Protective Jason Todd, Protective Older Brothers, Protective Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-09 18:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18643336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Help__Obsessed_Artist/pseuds/Help__Obsessed_Artist
Summary: Damian has been Robin for a couple years, but seems to forget that his family will always come for him, no matter what.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> -ominously- enjoy the angst  
> Damian may be very skilled, but he's still just a kid. And even he gets scared.

When Damian woke up, he was surrounded by three blurry figures. He suspected it was his brothers at first, standing over where he laid in the darkness, but after squinting, he saw that they were smaller. Hushed whispers reached his ears through a pounding in his head. The floor was swaying. A boat…? 

“Do you think Batman’s gonna save us?” A girl. 

“Idiota,” came a boy’s voice, older than the former. “He’s trapped here like us now. Es un niño como nosotros.” 

“He’s waking up!” 

Robin sat up quickly and the figures jerked back. Damian immediately regretted the movement, his head spinning and his stomach lurched, threatening to reintroduce him to Alfred’s pot roast. He groaned, pressing his palms into his eyeballs. His head was splitting, making his whole body shaky as he tried to remember what happened. 

They had been tracking a local gang that was rounding up kids. It was something the police didn’t know about because they were mostly homeless kids, and no one had been reported missing. But Red Hood had gained a reputation of being a “big brother” on the streets of Gotham, and one word from him sent Batman and the rest of the family to investigate. 

Damian thought they had the location right. Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin, Red Hood, Orphan and Robin had all surrounded the area of a warehouse. 

Nightwing had suggested joining Damian in his position, but Damian had refused. 

He cursed himself for it. 

They had snuck up on him while he had been voicing a petty argument with Drake over the comms. His face was grabbed roughly by a large hand, shoving a chloroform cloth over his mouth. It’s what they were using with the kids, Damian knew this. But Talia had been smart, training his body from a young age to have a natural immunity against the knockout drug. 

So he struggled, limbs flailing as he went for a batarang, his family chatting unknowingly in his ear. If he could just touch the comm, get his brothers’ attention, this wouldn’t have happened. But something metal made an impact with his forehead and the world went dark. 

Damian reached up, touching the raised, tender skin on the right part of his head and scowled at bloody fingers. 

Concussion. 

Damian huffed at his own foolishness for a moment before looking to the other residents of, what he assumed to be, a large metal shipping container. Five kids. The three closest to him had been crouched around him when he woke. A young girl, scruffy, with tangled red hair and a face full of freckles (the first voice), a boy, slightly older, Mexican and wearing a coat far too large for him, and another, smaller boy, staring wide-eyed at him. The other two were huddled near a dark corner, a small girl sporting a black eye, clutching to a dirty-faced toddler who was crying quietly. 

“Where are we?” The older boy scoffed. 

“Aren’t  _ you  _ supposed to know that, tonto?” Damian scowled. 

“We were in the process of tracking the location of the gang when I was kidnapped. I presume Red Robin’s prediction of the location was off. So, do you or do you not have any idea where we are?” 

“Robin getting kidnapped, this is rich.” He responded sourly and Damian resisted the urge to deck him. 

“Stop it Marcus!” The freckled-faced girl socked his arm in Damian’s place. “He’s just a kid like us! And if he’s here, Batman will find us.” She looked back at him shyly. “I’m Lily. This is Marcus, that boy is Richard, and Donna is holding her little sister Nina in the back.” She paused. “Batman  _ will _ find us... Won’t he?” 

“Tt.” Damian crossed his arms confidently. “Of course. He’s  _ Batman _ .” 

Something clicked in his mind and he reached for his comm. Gone. He cursed, but looked down to grab the distress beacon from his belt. 

It was gone. All his weapons, his beacon, any means of escape or contacting his family had been taken away. 

Damian swallowed the panic in his chest and stood, wavering slightly, but looking closer around the room. It was empty of anything other than themselves, nothing to jimmy the door open. Damian frowned, pushing aside annoyance and rage for allowing himself to be bested by those imbeciles and thought through what to do. 

What would Batman do? 

He turned back to the group, vision still a little blurry, but he put his hands confidently on his hips. 

“Empty your pockets. I need to see what we have to work with.” 

“Why???” Marcus asked. 

“So I can get us out of here.” 

“You can?” Asked Richard and Damian smiled. 

“Of course. So hurry up.” 

They collectively emptied the trinkets in their pockets, setting them in a pile on the floor. Damian sat down cross-legged, frowning, but relieved to no longer be standing on shaky, uneven legs. It wasn’t much; a half eaten bag of chips, a watch, two leather wallets, some crumpled tissues and a small switch blade that Marcus reluctantly surrendered from his sock. Robin grinned, picking it up. 

“What’re you gonna do with that? Jimmy the door?” The boy asked with an attitude that Damian scowled at. 

“Of course not, fool. I will simply incapacitate the next person to come in here.” 

“No one’s opened the door since you got here,” Lily explained. “That was three hours ago.” 

Damian almost dropped the knife in shock. 

Three hours. 

_ Three whole hours _ and his family hadn’t come for him yet. 

… Would they? 

At this point, he had proven himself inadequate. He had allowed himself to get kidnapped by the same people he was tracking, and more so, allowed himself to even be snuck up on in the first place. 

It was sloppy, for Damian. 

Unacceptable, for Robin. 

Undoubtedly punishable, for an assassin. 

Damian swallowed thickly. 

Would Father fire him if he somehow made it out? Did he  _ deserve  _ to wear the cape if he allowed himself to be abducted? Perhaps Father would send him back to the League of Assassins. 

Mother wouldn’t accept him back; not after his incompetence tonight. 

Perhaps Grayson would. 

They hadn’t been brothers for more than a couple years, having grown close when Grayson wore the cowl in Father’s absence. 

Damian blinked wetting eyes and scowled at himself. 

No. 

He would be just as disappointed as Father. He wouldn’t deserve his brother’s pity if he made it out. 

If. 

He was alone, now with children to protect, and little possibility of forgiveness. 

Part of him wanted to just give up and let himself be sold off. 

But it wasn’t in his blood to give in. Mother said defeat was unacceptable. Father never gave up; he always came back. Even death hadn’t stopped him. 

And Damian wouldn’t stop either. 

Was it just in his nature? Or was it for Damian to prove that he wasn’t incompetent? That he was worthy of the mask, worthy of his Mother’s pride and his father’s love? That he was worthy of Grayson calling him brother? 

Maybe it was none of that. 

Or maybe it was all of it. 

Damian didn’t know. But he would not give up. 

He couldn’t. Not with civilians. 

Perhaps, if he was alone. 

But not now. 

Damian shook his head, refocusing. It had been three hours, he had been kidnapped at around 10 pm, so that put the current time at somewhere around 1 am. It was unlikely anyone would come until the morning, but Damian couldn’t afford that. 

He turned back to the kids, all looking up at him expectantly. 

“Alright, listen up. I want you all to bang on the sides of this container. Yell and scream, be as rambunctious and irritating as possible so whomever is standing guard will come in.” 

“Then what?” 

Damian clicked the knife open, making his way over to the door. 

“I will jump on the unsuspecting fool and get us out of here.” 

To prove his point, Robin jumped up, latching his hands on the ridges of the door and slowly scaling. It was near  _ impossible _ with a concussion, but he managed to balance, years of discipline allowing his body to hold against the door, near the ceiling, with the knife between his teeth. He looked back at them and nodded. 

The children looked hesitant, but followed his cue, each scampering to different sides of the box and starting to bang on them. Their cries for help echoed around the metal walls, growing louder and causing the small child to cry harder.  _ Excellent _ . He almost felt bad for scaring the toddler, but her crying would amplify the noise and they needed that. 

The ruckus lasted one minute before there was a clank and the door Damian was clinging to started to creak open. 

“Would you kids shut the fu-” 

Damian  _ lunged _ , dropping down onto the man’s shoulders and causing him to stumble forward. He hit the ground with a thud and Robin went to slam his skull into the floor when-

“Robin!” 

Damian looked up before he was grabbed roughly by the cape and pulled back, stumbling as he tried to push through the sudden wave of nausea and dizziness from his concussion. He twisted around, trying not to fall over and he slashed blindly at the second assailant. There was a cry when he drew blood from the man’s arm, but his head was spinning, and he hesitated. 

A mistake. 

The man punched him in the face  _ hard _ and Damian dropped like a sack of potatoes. 

The world was whirling around him and he couldn’t breathe. He managed to squeeze his eyes open to see one of the men pressing a boot hard into his chest while the other screamed at the children. 

The toddler only cried louder in the chaos as the man leaned down to land another hard hit to his nose, forcing his skull to bang against the metal floor and the world went dark. 

* * *

When Damian woke up again, he was alone. 

His entire face was throbbing, and his nose was definitely broken. It hurt to even breathe, but he opened his eyes and looked around. 

He was in shipping container, but this time, it was just him. 

He looked down. 

He was laying on his side, his upper torso had been bound by ropes, his wrists tied behind his back and his ankles bound. They were too tight. 

Damian knew he could get out of them, but it would be difficult and he had grown so  _ tired _ in the last few hours. Had it been hours? It was possible it was morning now, and by nightfall, he would be shipped out of Gotham. 

Father hadn’t come. 

No one had. 

Tears stung Damian’s eyes and he tried to swallow them. He wouldn’t cry. He had expected this. He had failed and now he was paying for it. 

A small voice in the back of his head told him he might still escape. When they came to get him next, he could fight them off before they sold him off, or whatever they were doing with the kids. He could call Father to come get him from wherever he was. Maybe he could even find his way back himself. 

But the thought made his chest tighter and his face hotter. 

Even thinking about fighting again was making him that much more exhausted. He didn’t want to fight anymore. He wanted to be in bed, he wanted to cuddle Titus, to pet Alfred, have Pennyworth bring him some tea. He wanted Father to read to him, for Drake to yell at him, and he wanted Todd to rustle his hair teasingly. 

He wanted these stupid ropes to be replaced with Grayson’s arms. 

He let himself cry. 

Damian’s body shook with quiet sobs that echoed loudly through the container. It was hard to cry through his stuffed broken nose and through the tightness of the ropes, and the frustration at how hard it was to cry was only making him sob harder. He moved back slightly, turning his head and burying his face into his cape. He wanted to smell the fabric softener Pennyworth used, hoping it would bring him some comfort, but his nose refused to let in air and Damian felt something in his chest break. 

He dreaded what they would do to him. Where he would go. What awful things they would probably put him through. He wasn’t naive; he knew the things that happened to kids that were trafficked. 

What some people  _ did _ to kids his age. 

He would be sold and owned as property, by someone who would treat him like dirt. It disgusted him. But more than that, it  _ terrified _ him. 

Father hadn’t come. 

He wouldn’t be saved. 

And Damian would die. 

It would be slow, gnawing, and painful. Like a caged bird. Like an abused animal. 

His body would probably just give up. 

Damian’s crying slowed to uneven shutters, nuzzling his face further into his cape, into the comfort of his home. 

The home he might never see again. 

Sleep pulled at Damian teasingly, dragging him away from his pain, that pounding in his head. Away from the tightness of the ropes and the fear in his gut. 

He let his eyes slip closed, and allowed himself to breathe in peaceful silence, praying for it to last forever. 

* * *

The third time he woke up, it was to the clang of an opening door. He squeezed his eyes shut, burying his face back into his cape and  _ shaking _ with sudden fear. Tears pricked at his eyes again as he tried to make himself as small as possible. 

Maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could disappear. 

There was a yell and pounding feet before someone dropped to their knees beside him. He felt the ropes around him loosen and he cracked an eye open in wary confusion. 

Bright blue caught his attention and his eyes widened. 

Before he could speak, the ropes were gone and he was squished against Grayson’s warm chest. His brother was  _ shaking _ , a hand pressed against his back while the other carded through his hair. He was rocking Damian slightly, whispering things like ‘ _ thank god _ ’ and ‘ _ I’m so glad you’re alright _ ’ and ‘ _ I love you so much _ ’ and Damian choked, more tears spilling onto his cheeks as he gripped the fabric of Nightwing’s suit. 

Grayson was there, he had come for him. 

The crying was quieter this time, tears of pure  _ relief _ soaking the shoulder of Nightwing’s suit. 

He was going home. 

The thought seemed to calm his crying and he hiccuped, slumping slightly but his grip still tight on his brother’s suit. 

Eventually, Grayson pulled back, eyes wide and wet behind his mask as he brushed the hair from Damian’s face. He pressed a kiss onto Damian’s forehead, a broken sigh rattling from his chest as he stopped shaking. 

“You’re okay…” He whispered into Damian’s hair and he pulled the boy back into a hug. 

Damian didn’t trust himself to speak. He just nodded, making a small broken noise and nuzzling his forehead against Grayson’s collarbone. The elder seemed to collect himself, pulling away from Damian for a moment to scoop him up, holding him securely to his chest. In any other situation, Damian would have complained, but he was so tired and the dizziness was still there, so he couldn’t find it in his chest to care. He just wound his arms around his brother’s neck, tucking his head under Nightwing’s chin and closing his eyes. 

* * *

It was warm. Damian could finally breathe through the numb pain in his nose and he sighed. It smelled wet. There was a pressure on his head, like someone was brushing his hair. There was also something pressed to his right side, something warm and breathing. He wanted to fall back asleep, but the curiosity was too much now, and he blinked his eyes open slowly. 

Father was staring at him fondly, hand brushing Damian’s bangs back softly in a soothing motion from where he sat next to the cot in the Batcave. Damian blinked to look to the right, seeing Grayson sleeping peacefully beside him. He turned to look back at Father. 

“Hello Damian.” Father smiled smally and Damian stopped himself from smiling back, shame suddenly tightening his chest. He didn’t know how long he had been out, but he could tell Father hadn’t slept since the ordeal. He had failed, caused his family to worry, made them work harder to find him when he should have been helping. He allowed himself to be kidnapped, and he had been sloppy trying to escape, probably resulting in retaliation against the kids he was supposed to be protecting. 

He had  _ failed _ . 

“I’m sorry Father,” Damian croaked small and he saw Father’s expression fall. 

“Damian, there is no need to apologize.” 

“Yes there is.” His voice was small and shaky, he almost didn’t recognize it. He felt his body start to shiver again, but he steeled himself as he continued. “I allowed myself to be caught and thus made the mission harder for you. I didn’t want for you to have to save me, but I couldn’t get out. I failed to escape and endangered the children I was trying to help. I  _ failed _ .” He stared hard at the wall, unable to meet his father’s eyes. He heard a sigh, a quiet whoosh of air, before his father spoke. 

“Damian. You didn’t fail. Not me. Not Dick, not those kids, no one. If anyone has failed tonight, it’s me.” 

Damian blinked in surprise, his eyes darting to stare at his father. He smiled sadly. 

“You are extremely capable Damian. But you were put into a situation that I did not expect you to get out of. It seems I have failed to teach you that it’s okay to make mistakes. I failed to protect you tonight. I failed to come faster. And most importantly, I seem to have failed to tell you that I will  _ always _ come for you. No matter what.” Father paused, leaning forward to press a kiss to Damian’s forehead. “I would tear apart heaven and Earth to find you Damian. You are my son, and though I expect many things from you, getting out of a situation as dangerous as this is not one of them.” 

Damian blinked away tears, his lips trembling as he tried to speak evenly, “B-But I let myself be caught. I nearly compromised the mission.” 

“You did no such thing.” Father soothed, hand moving to brush fingers through his hair again. “Do you want to know how we found you?” 

“How?” 

“The tracker in your belt. They confiscated it, but it led us to you after Tim managed to activate it remotely. I would’ve prefered you weren’t abducted at all, but  _ you _ are the one who saved those kids, Damian. I’m  _ so  _ proud of you, and I’m  _ so  _ glad you’re alright.” 

Damian nodded, sniffling and closing his eyes. After a couple moments of silence, he yawned, earning him a chuckle from his Father. The man stood, pressing another kiss to his head and smiling. 

“Get some rest.” 

The boy nodded, far too tired from the painkillers and all the crying he had done the entire night. He turned, snuggling closer to Grayson who sighed in his sleep and pulled his little brother closer. Damian sighed, feeling himself drift off as he heard Father sit back down to watch over him.  


	2. Dick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You don't mess with the Bats. 
> 
> Especially not Robin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gotten into a habit of writing an angsty oneshot before deciding I need to write more from another person's perceptive.  
> Anywhoozle, here's more angst feat. Protective Big Brothers™ and Panicked Dick™.
> 
> (Also the Bats are scary as hell)

Dick was bored. Overwhelmingly and irritatingly bored. His limbs itched to run, to jump, even to  _ stretch _ from where he sat on the rooftop. Even as Nightwing, Dick always got extremely antsy on stakeouts, wanting nothing more than some action. He used to whine incessantly to Bruce, who never complained, but always gave him a hard stare to silence him. 

“RR. Any movement?” He asked and Tim's voice crackled over in response. 

“Negative.” The kid was a little smug after winning some stupid argument over the comms with Damian, and his youngest brother had been silent for almost an hour since. He was probably brooding. 

Dick continued, “Hood?” 

“Couple civilians, mostly drunk homeless guys, but no cars.” 

“Orphan?” 

“No.” She responded shortly. 

“What about you, B?” 

“No movement. It is possible that our coordinates are off.” 

“I checked them twice, Batman,” Tim defended, “All indications point to this warehouse.” 

“We’ve been here since 8… That's like three hours. I dunno if they're here. What about you, Robin? Anything?” 

Silence. 

“Kiddo? You didn't fall asleep did you?” 

No response. 

“Robin,” Batman's voice crackled over the line, “Report.” 

Dick's heart rate started to rise when Damian still wasn't responding. 

“ _ Robin. _ ” Bruce said again, louder this time. 

The silence made Dick's heart clench. 

“Orphan. Get a visual on Robin.” 

Dick saw her jump from her position in the distance, making her way over to Damian's designated location. 

After a minute of silence, she spoke. 

“Robin is gone. Struggle. Blood.” 

Dick was running before he realized he had gotten up. He bounded across rooftops, scattering several flocks of pigeons and completely compromising the stealth part of the mission but  _ he didn't care _ . 

He reached Orphan's location in less than a minute, dropping down beside her through the window of an abandoned building, trying to breath evenly past rising panic. She was kneeling, examining a discarded crowbar. Cass turned to him, handing him the crowbar and Dick's knees buckled. She steadied him as his eyes studied the metal rod, his already high heart rate spiking at the sight of blood on one end. 

He glanced at the ground, noticing the discarded batarang and a chloroform soaked rag. 

“Robin…” His voice was a croaked whisper, but he managed to choke out the words over the comm. “Robin's been abducted.” 

* * *

They all gathered at Red Hood's location on the street and both Batman and Red Robin were typing furiously at their forearm displays. They had scanned the whole crime scene but the only piece of tangible evidence was the crowbar and cloth, free of prints or DNA. 

Except for Damian's blood. 

Dick was pacing, running a hand through his hair over and over. Red Hood was eyeing him warily, but didn't say anything. 

“Please tell me you have  _ something _ .” Dick turned to Tim again and the boy's eyes flicked up momentarily. 

“Not in the last five seconds.” Tim was agitated, typing hurriedly beside their father to try and recalculate the predicted coordinates. 

“Can't you work any faster?!” Dick strode over to them. The two had been at this for almost twenty minutes and time was running out. They had last heard from Damian an hour ago and the more time that passed, the more of a chance that his little brother would… 

Would… 

“I'm trying!!!” Tim snapped. 

“You're not trying hard enough!” 

“Nightwing!” Bruce's voice made him snap to attention, but before Dick could say anything, there was an arm over his shoulder and Jason was steering him quickly away. 

“Let's go for a walk, Big Bird.” 

The younger man walked them into an alley before Dick shrugged him off, punching a brick wall in anger. 

It sent a shock down his forearm, but Dick was still fuming. 

“Whoa there,” Hood crossed his arms over his chest patiently, “ _ I'm _ the vigilante with the temper, remember?” 

“An hour, he's been gone for an  _ hour _ and we have nothing!” 

Dick started to pace again but Jason stayed planted firm at the entrance of the alley, no doubt to stop him if he tried to make his way back to Tim. 

“Red Robin is doing his best.” 

“That's not good enough!!!” 

Dick's stomach burned with guilt as soon as the statement left his lips and he saw Jason tense up. 

“This is  _ not his fault, jackass. _ ” His younger brother was starting to seeth with palpable anger and Dick flinched at Jason's tone, but he kept his eyes level with the glowing sockets of Jason's helmet. “Now I know you're worried about the kid; we  _ all _ are, but you knocking RR around isn't going to make him work any faster. He's doing his damn  _ best! _ ” 

He heard Jason huff and Dick broke eye contact, looking at his feet. The rage in Dick’s chest was starting to ebb away, being replaced heavily by guilt and dread. His eyes started to water suddenly. 

“You know… You know what they do to those kids, Jason…” Dick's voice was a broken whisper as his shoulders started to shake. He saw Jason step closer. “What if… What if he's… what if we can't…” 

Something  _ swelled _ in Dick's chest suddenly at the thought of not finding him; the morbid gut-wrenching  _ possibility _ of losing Damian, of losing his baby brother. His baby brother being dragged away. 

Sold off.

Of him…

Dick sobbed suddenly, an overwhelming sense of pure  _ panic _ making his chest seize up. It felt like he had been doused with a high concentration of Crane’s fear gas, but this version was worse. There was no cure for this. This was reality. This was actually happening and in this awful reality, it was entirely possible that Dick would never see his baby again. 

It wouldn't be like last time either. There was no body to bury, no Lazarus Pit to bring Damian back to life either. 

No, Damian would still be alive. 

But somehow, it was  _ worse _ . 

Damian would be alive, but out of reach. He would be alone and scared and there was  _ nothing _ Dick could do to help him. Dick couldn't protect him if they didn't find him in time. 

Dick would  _ lose _ the most valuable thing in his life, and be tortured with the knowledge of knowing and not knowing what exactly was happening to his baby brother. 

“Dick can you hear me?” 

Jason's voice sounded distorted, like he was underwater, barely audible past the heaving sobs wracking Dick's body. His entire body was shaking, his eyes wide and shedding endless tears, but Dick couldn't  _ stop _ . Just like he couldn't stop what they did to Dami if-

“Dick, you're having a panic attack. I need you to listen to me.” 

But he couldn't. Dick couldn't listen, he didn't want to listen. He didn't want to do anything but find Damian and that possibility was becoming less and less of a reality with every passing second-

Somehow, he was sitting down on a trash can, his head eased between his legs as Jason rubbed his back. He gulped in deep breaths like he had been suffocating -how had he not noticed he couldn't breathe?- and his head buzzed with adrenaline. 

“Repeat after me.” Jason's voice was starting to become less distorted, soft but commanding as he continued speaking to Dick, “45, 109, 7, 78, 13.” 

Dick inhaled a shuddering breath, blinking his eyes to focus. He repeated the numbers, feeling the buzzing in his brain start to die down. 

“77, 32, 6, 15.” 

Dick repeated those numbers and began to breathe slower. 

The two continued the process twice more before Dick could breathe evenly. He was still shaky, but he had managed to stop crying and no longer felt like he was going to vomit. 

Dick straightened, wiping his face, and blinking groggily up at Jason. The second eldest had removed his helmet, blinking calmly down at Dick behind his domino mask. 

“Better?” 

“Yeah,” Dick didn't trust his voice to rise any higher than a whisper, “I'm okay…” 

“Look, it's going to be fine. Damian's a tough cookie. He'll hold out till we find him.” 

Dick let out a slow breath again, arguably the calmest he's had since this whole mess began and closed his eyes. 

“Yeah. I know.” 

* * *

Hours later and Dick was starting to feel the panic clawing at his chest again. But he pushed it away like a bad thought, focusing all his energy on searching. Batman had calculated three other possible locations, and they had all split up to search; Nightwing with Red Hood, Red Robin with Orphan, and Batman alone. 

Nightwing knew he would beat the shit out of all of them if he was the one to find their location, but god help  _ anyone  _ who Batman stumbled across. 

“I've got it!!!” 

Nightwing skidded to a halt in the hallway of the office building he and Jason had been searching. 

“Got what?” 

“I have Robin's location! His tracker was offline, but I managed to hack into a wireless frequency nearby that allowed me to turn it back on.” Tim's explanation was hurried, “I couldn't do it earlier because the city is so large-” 

“Location.” Batman's voice was hard. 

“Sent to everyone now.” 

“Convene 30 yards west of the location and await instruction.” Batman's communication ended just as the location flashed on Nightwing’s lenses, a blue route painting the streets in front of him. Red Hood appeared by his side, immediately shooting a nearby window, taking a moment to nod at him before they both sprinted and jumped out.

* * *

Nightwing and Hood touched down onto the rooftop but Batman didn't spare them a glance. Red Robin looked to be finishing up assault routes for everyone, going off a quick recon from Orphan. 

He sent out the plans wordlessly to the team, eyes trained hard on the ground and another blue route lit up Nightwing's lenses. 

“You all have your assignments. Nightwing and Orphan will close in on Robin's location, Red Hood and I are on take down, Red Robin, locate and secure the children.” 

Everyone nodded. 

Without another word, they all jumped off the roof. 

Nightwing rolled to cushion his fall to the pavement, immediately bolting toward a shipment warehouse. Orphan kept up with him easily, the two of them keeping to the shadows. They passed several men walking through the maze of dozens of shipping containers on the docks, but Nightwing paid them no mind. Batman and Hood would take care of them. All he cared about was finding Damian. 

Nightwing scaled the wall of the warehouse, shimmying through a window with Orphan on his heels. He jumped off the wall to land quietly on a shipping container, tapping the side of his mask twice to activate heat searching. His lenses blinked and three men stood circled at the other end of the warehouse. 

Nightwing turned, signing a quick update to his sister before soundlessly taking a running start, and jumping from container to container. 

The men's voices started to echo, a heated discussion that Nightwing's mask immediately tuned into. He peeked over the edge of a container, spotting the three men below standing around a table. 

“And you're sure the brat isn't gonna cause any  _ more _ trouble?” 

“No sir. He's on the first ship out. Two hours.” 

“Good. I've already set up several potential buyers… He’ll sell for a pretty penny.” 

Nightwing had heard enough. 

He dropped down on the shoulders of the one closest to him, Orphan following his lead with the second. The apparent man-in-charge cried out in surprise, reaching for a gun on the table but Nightwing was quicker, slamming his foot into the desk separating them, sending the metal screeching and crashing into the man’s hips. 

He fell with a thud, hissing in pain and Orphan was on him, kicking his gun away and pinning him to the ground.

Nightwing scanned the area, eyes falling on Robin's belt. 

He huffed in frustration, grabbing the belt and kneeling beside the man. 

“Where. Is. He.” 

The man spat at him, “Fuck you!” 

Nightwing glared, suddenly deciding he wasn't going to bother. 

“Orphan. I'm going to see if the pigs outside are any better at squealing.” He stood, turning to run out the door before calling back to her,

“Do whatever you want to him. But make it _painful_.” 

He sprinted off, the man's sudden screams echoed through the warehouse, fading as he ran back into the cold air, and immediately rounded the corner to the area blinking with Batman's location. 

He made his way through the maze, skidding to a stop where Batman and Red Hood stood, throwing the last of the armed men into an unconscious and bound (several of them bleeding severely) pile. 

They turned to greet him and he held up the belt wordlessly. 

Red Hood snagged the nearest conscious thug, cocking his gun and pressing the hot metal hard into the man's eyelid. 

The man  _ screeched _ in pain, struggling against the ties on his wrists. 

“Don't make me put a bullet in your skull, scumbag. Where's Robin.” 

It was not a question, it was a command. 

Nightwing's eyes flicked to their father, but Batman, who would normally frown upon Hood's incredible violence and threatening of murder, only  _ blinked _ at the altercation. 

“Co-container 137!! Its 137!!” 

Nightwing was sprinting off before the man was even released. 

His head was starting to pound, eyes scanning every container until he made it to the 130’s. He spotted Red Robin further down the row, a small row of children following him like ducklings, but he paid them no greeting as he reached the claimed container. 

He practically ripped the door off. 

Dim moonlight pooled through the opening, catching red and green. 

“Robin!” 

Dick was at his side in an instant, collapsing to his knees and immediately grabbing a wing-ding, sawing through the ropes binding Damian's body. The boy was shivering, small shutters twitching through his body like he was… afraid. 

Dick understood how someone could commit murder now. One spared glance at his baby brother's face sent a murderous rage though him, but he threw the weapon aside, scooping Damian into a hug as the boy's eyes blinked open. 

The second his brother was in his arms, all the rage and panic rushed out of him like hot air. 

It was replaced with shaking  _ relief _ on his part as he rocked slightly, face nuzzling into Damian's soft hair. 

“Dami.. Thank _ god _ … I love you so much… I'm so glad you're okay, oh god… I was so scared we wouldn't find you...” 

The small boy shuttered, letting out a whine as he melted into Dick's hug and shaking with small sobs. Dick soothed him quietly, hands carding through his hair as he tried to stop  _ himself _ from devolving into sobs. 

Damian was  _ here _ . He was safe in Dick's arms, and though he was a little banged up, no one was going to hurt him again. Not tonight. 

The elder let out a shaky breath, stemming his tears and pulling back to brush the hair on the boy's forehead. A broken nose and bloodied face almost made Dick's heart shatter all over again, so he pressed a fond relieved kiss to Damian's unblemished skin, pulling him tightly back into a hug. 

“Nightwing, do you have Robin?” 

Bruce's voice cracked into his ear, dragging him back to reality. Any normal person would have not noticed the slight, anxious edge to Batman's words, but Dick did. He was just as panicked as him. 

“I have him,” Dick whispered breathlessly, sniffing and wiping his eyes. Damian slumped against him with exhaustion and Dick squeezed him one last time before scooping him up. 

Damian made a small approving noise, wrapping his arms tiredly around Dick and nuzzling his head against the elders neck, breaths slowing from shivers to deep and even as Nightwing walked down the rows. 

The team had moved around the children, as if keeping a human fence between them and the pile of beat up thugs. Red Hood was kneeled down as multiple kids touched and cooed over his helmet and Red Robin looked a little frazzled as several of them messed with his cape.

Nightwing reunited with them as soon as Orphan did, wiping red blood off her knuckles with the black fabric of her suit. She spared him a glance, winking as he made his way over to Batman with Robin. 

Bruce looked a little shaken at Damian's state, but activated his wrist scanner. The results blinked as only superficial, the worst injuries being a broken nose and concussion. Nightwing heard the small whoosh of relief from his father but made no comment. 

“You found him!” A little red haired girl broke from the formation to scamper to Nightwing's side and he blinked. She smiled brightly, pointing. 

“Uh… Yes, we found him.” 

“Is he okay?” She looked suddenly concerned. “They hit him really hard…” 

Nightwing smiled. “He'll be fine. He's just sleepy.” 

The girl nodded, scuffing her foot. “He tried to help us. Can you tell him thank you when he wakes up?” 

“Of course.” 

She smiled again and Nightwing waved her off, watching her scamper back to the sheep-like puddle of children. 

Batman cleared his throat. “The police have been called, they'll be here soon. Take Robin back to the Cave.” 

Nightwing nodded, turning before he paused. “I think I'll take RR with me.” Bruce spared him a long look before nodding, a ghost of a smile on his face. 

Nightwing strode toward his little brother, guilt panging in his chest when Tim went slightly rigid. 

“RR, let's take Robin back to the cave.” 

Tim nodded silently, not meeting his eyes but following as Dick turned. Tim was first, the two of them scaling a fire escape, and Nightwing took a moment to pass Robin to Red Robin from where he was on the roof. Nightwing pulled himself up, dusting his hands and sparing Tim a glance. 

The boy looked uncomfortable, arms tight around Damian, but clearly itching for Dick to take him back. 

Dick sighed, stepping forward and embracing both of them. Tim went straight as a board, twitching like he would bolt at any second, and Dick just squeezed him affectionately. 

“I'm sorry…” Dick murmured, but Tim didn't relax. He continued quietly, “This wasn't your fault and I had no right to yell at you. You  _ found _ Damian, Tim. Thank you…” 

Tim relaxed, only slightly, before Dick pulled back. The younger boy cleared his throat, glancing sheepishly into the eldest eyes before gesturing to Damian. 

“Can you take him back now? I don't want him to start biting me in his sleep.” 

Dick laughed, nodding and taking the boy, situating him so Damian's legs were hooked over his hips and his upper body was tucked snugly against Dick. He breathed, pausing at the sharp smell of shampoo on the boy's hair and sighing another breath of relief. 

Damian was  _ safe _ . 


End file.
